Do You Feel Lucky?

I certainly do.

I've had a helluva week and it just seems to keep getting better. So far, I found out that I'm able to move into that house that I really liked, my career prospects have gone from kinda dull and predictable to new and exciting, in addition to being more lucrative, and I had one of the most amazing 'Vegas' experiences the other night while dealing in that high-roller poker game. It's just been one cool thing after another.

And who is the main beneficiary of all this good fortune? Well of course, it's YOU--my readers. When life is fun and exciting, I think it reflects in the quality of my writings, if not strictly the quantity. It's much easier to share the fun stuff than it is to try and make the normal-everyday stuff sound exciting. So I hope y'all are enjoying the ride as much as I am by sharing it with you.

So, where were we--yesterday was kind of a blur. Oh yeah, I got home late from the Silverton poker tournament, where I played really well but still didn't get into the money, but it was good for my confidence. I finally made my spaghetti sauce and did a bit of housework. I was up when Rob got home, but he was fairly exhausted and we didn't stay up and watch TV or talk sports or do much at all--he gave me a quick rundown of his night in the casino and he went off to bed.

I did the same, but I couldn't sleep. I don't know why I was so keyed up--I knew I needed my rest. But my email box kept ringing on my computer, so I knew that Mamasan was up back in Nashville, drinking her morning coffee and forwarding me the latest amusements that show up in her mailbox. So I called her up and we ended up chatting for almost an hour about not much at all, but it did serve to help put me to sleep. Heh.

I think I finally fell asleep at 6:30 in the morning, and had my alarm set for 10:30. Unfortunately, my phone was ringing a half hour before that--it was Mamasan calling me back with breathless excitement about her booze shopping at Frugal McDougal's that morning. Apparently, mama's got a stocked liquor cabinet now... But I was so far out of it that all I could do is grunt and say 'ok' for the balance of the brief conversation.

But I knew that alarm was about to ring, so I got up and turned it off, did another load of laundry, took a shower and shaved, and boiled up some pasta. The sauce was happily bubbling away in the crockpot, filling the house with a tasty aroma.

Lunch was quite good.

Since most of my chores were done, and I was still tired from lack of sleep and a big meal, I sat down in the magic sleepy-time chair and fell asleep watching ESPN. I guess I dozed for awhile, but I woke up again around noon to my phone ringing again, and it was Dougie, calling to make sure I was awake so that I didn't miss the poker tournament down at Binion's yesterday afternoon.

How did he know? Seriously, while I was sitting there half-passed out, I had almost convinced myself that I was dead money and I should save the hundred bucks and go back to bed.

But he would have none of that--I guess it's much more fun to live vicariously through someone if they're out doing interesting Vegas-style activities instead of just napping all afternoon. So, he motivated me to get up out of the chair and put my shoes on, and a few minutes later, my sleep-deprived carcass was driving down the freeway, heading downtown, wondering if I was doing the right thing.

I got to the casino about 45 minutes before the tournament started, paid my registration fee, and got my seat assignment. I saw that I was at Table #25, seat 7.

Not bad, I thought--there are at least 250 entrants, which was by far the largest live field I've ever played against. The buy-in was $110, so I figured that first prize would be around six grand. Again, not bad.

Since I had time to kill, I took some time to wander over and look at the Poker Hall of Fame pictures, and I even snapped a photo or two of the last final table for the World Series ever held at Binion's. If you click on them for full size, you can see some interesting autographs and colorful commentary.




Anyhow, just trying to read all the famous autographs was a great way to kill time until the cards were in the air.

By the way, the tournament in question is the kick-off event for the the Binion's Poker Classic, which competes indirectly with the World Series of Poker (which starts tomorrow down at the Rio). The first event has always traditionally been a Dealer's Tournament, but that's just what they call it--it's open to any casino employee, as long as they show a paystub or a casino ID card.

It turns out, there weren't actually 250+ players in the event. There were only 120, and not one of my friends who said they'd be there actually showed up, either. Still, it was a nice-sized field, and my only hope when they dealt for the button was to not be the first one busted out.

I shouldn't have worried though, my first hand of the tournament was pocket tens, and when I saw a guy make an obvious bluff to steal the first blinds, I came over the top of him, and he immediately abandoned those plans. As the dealer pushed the pot towards me, I raised my arms in triumph and announced in a loud voice Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a new chip leader... which got a chuckle from the surrounding tables.

I realized fairly quickly that there were three other very good players at my table, and unfortunately, one was directly to my left. But I raked three or four quick pots, and earned myself a table reputation as an aggressive player. So for the first three rounds or so, whenever I raised, most cards went into the muck.

Unfortunately, that worked against me, too. At one point, when the blinds were 100/200, I got three monster hands in a row --pocket Aces, pocket Kings, and unbelievably, pocket Kings again. The first hand, I raised to $700. No action--everyone folded to me. The second hand, I dropped it a hundred bucks and raised the bet to only $600 to go. Still no action.

On the third hand in that series, when I miraculously saw the cowboys staring up at me again, I raised it to just $500 and asked if anyone wanted to dance. Nobody did. All those good cards and all I could pick up was $900 worth of blinds. Ugh.

The action dragged on all afternoon, and I kept texting Dougie once or twice an hour with the progress of the tournament.

Down to 100--I'm still in!

84 players, still alive.

F*cking Ace-rag. I swear it never wins!

They just broke another table

Halfway point. I KNEW I was better than half these jokers.

My only real trouble came when I called a short stack who went all-in. I thought he was holding junk like queen-jack or maybe even 8-9 suited, so I called with the same hand that got me knocked out the night before at the Silverton -- Ace-Ten suited. He actually had pocket Kings, and of course they held up, and he took a fair chunk of my stack, putting me below par for the first time all day.

Unfortunately, that's about the time I went absolutely card-dead and was playing short stack poker from behind for almost two hours. It was a rough go and I was surprised that I was able to outlast it and scratch out a few small wins.

The problem was, I was sitting at what would be the 'featured' table. Tables were getting broken right and left all around us, and new players would come in and sit with us, and then go broke awhile later. One hand later, a replacement would be found, and the cycle would repeat itself. But the four of us--me and those other three guys I started with whose skills were evident early on--kept chugging along. We took to calling ourselves the Table 25 Original Gangsters because at one point before the dinner break, damn near everyone else in the tournament had changed seats at least once, and none of us had moved all afternoon.

And believe me, it was tough playing with those guys. I had to be very careful not to get too loose, lest I found myself on the rail as a spectator.

Around 6 pm, they finally broke our table and sent us off in various directionss. Well, sorta. Two of those other guys and I ended up together at the same new table.

By then, we were down to about 40 players or so. The next objective was to not go out on the 'dinner bubble'. At 7:00 pm, there would be a 45 minute break, and everyone still left playing would get a voucher for a free catered dinner up in Benny's Bullpen on the second floor. Even though I was sill below par, I figured I could make it that far.

Unfortunately, at my new table, directly to my left, were two huge stacks, both of which were sitting in front of two of the biggest asshats I've ever had the sorry luck to share a poker table with. It didn't look good for me, and I figured I'd probably not even get a free meal for my troubles.

But these two, I soon realized, were just dumb lucky, and made some pretty iffy calls, and both of them were bleeding off chips at an astounding rate. I was content to just go in the tank and wait for a monster hand, hoping I wouldn't get blinded off.

It finally came when the blinds were $400/$800 with a $50 ante. I had pocket nines on the big blind, and three people limped in. I checked and hit my trips on the flop, and the Flying Spaghetti Monster was kind enough to put an Ace on the board at the same time. I went all-in, and sniffing blood in the water because they all thought their aces were good, they all called. A few minutes later I sent Dougie a text message saying that I had just quadrupled up.

Hell yeah--no dinner bubble for me! I was now in serious contention.

The last hand before dinner knocked a couple more people out, and when we took our break, we were down to 28 survivors. Prize money went to the top 12.

Dinner in the bullpen was surprisingly good--Caesar salad, breadsticks, pizza, and of course, spaghetti... I passed on that, but hit the pizza. I was absolutely shocked at how good it was. I even asked the guys bringing out the food if it was available there at the casino somewhere, but they said no, it was catered in from the Chicago Brewing Company.

The one at Four Queens?

No, they don't have the capacity I was told--our dinner came from the store out on Sahara and Ft. Apache.

Hmmm, I thought, I might have to make a trip out there--it was that good! And their beer? Well, I'm thinkin' I can talk Falcon Rob into a cross-town road trip one of these days.

Anyhow, dinner was excellent, except the asshat from my table followed me around the whole time and didn't shut up the entire break. It was awful--I couldn't escape him, either.

Luckily, when we got back from the dinner break, they moved him away from our table, and everyone was thankful, saying stuff like Thank God--that dude was the most annoying douchebag ever.

Before too long we were down to two tables, and with me having a big chip stack, I was able to bully a couple other people out and isolate the short-stacks, knocking a couple of them out whenever they went all-in. Just as I finished dragging a pot and knocking out a chick with my Ace-Queen (Yes!!!! It actually won!!!!), they made that magic announcement over the PA system.

Congratulations tournament players, we are now in the money!

My next text message to Dougie was a simple one.

MONEY!

It didn't seem like it was very long thereafter that we got down to eleven players and went hand-for-hand to determine the final ten players. I still had a monster stack, I was maybe fourth highest chip leader, so I wasn't worried. I knew I could fold my way to the final table if I had to.

It didn't take long before 11th place got knocked out, and once that happened, they moved us all to the 'featured' poker table--the one on the little stage with the guardrail around it. The first thing they did was give us all a commemorative card protector chip that said Binion's Poker Open 2008 Final Table. That was kind of cool.

Once we got to that final table, I honestly don't remember playing a single hand except for my very last one. We were down to seven players and the blinds were $2000/$4000, with a $400 ante. I was on the big blind, and looked down to see to pocket Kings smiling up at me.

A couple of people limped in, and the button went all-in. I closed my eyes and put my head down, like I was thinking about a call.

I want him to think I was pondering a call, but all I'm really thinking about is Vegas and the f*cking Mirage...

Actually, at that moment, I wasn't thinking of Rounders quotes--I was saying to myself I'm going to win this f*cking tournament. I'm about to become chip leader on a shorthanded table. I can *do* this!

I took about ten seconds to stare the other guy down, then calmly said, I'm all-in, also.

The other players hopped out of their seats in excitement, knowing that another showdown was another jump in prize money. Everyone, that is, except the guy on my left who had previously limped in.

He asked the dealer to count down both stacks. The guy on the button had just over $32,000. I had $43,800 left. The player on my left had us both covered.

He paused for a second and then said it-- I'm all in too.

We turned over our cards. I was pumped to see that the button had Ace-King, and the guy on my left had pocket Jacks. My Kings were good!

Well, they were good until a Jack came out on the flop. The guy on the button went out in 7th place, and I took sixth-place honors.

My share of the prize pool was $630. Not bad, but damn, I thought for a moment there that I was going to win it all. Not only was I playing well, but I got all my money in the pot when I had the best of it. Just pure dumb luck--that Jack on the flop--kept me from the prize.

I remember sitting at the dinner table, while trying to ignore the asshat who wouldn't quit talking, and thinking that at the time I would've been extremely satisfied with a top-30 finish. Yeah, I wanted to win, or at least get into the money, but this was a *real* tournament with 30 minute levels, where skill actually counts for something, not just 'push 'em and pray' because the blinds are about to go up, again, like so many other tournaments around town. I felt validated--like I wasn't wasting my time or just getting lucky whenever I do well at the poker table.

I can actually play this game. Maybe not well enough to earn a bracelet, and certainly not well enough to make a living at it, but now I know that I can hold my own against good players. Getting to the final table is a big deal in a tournament that size. And outlasting almost 120 players when there are no re-buys takes more talent than luck.

So even though I was quite disappointed at the time, I'm quite satisfied with the outcome now that I've had a few hours to think about it.

Mikey got mad skillz. And six hundred bucks. And a nifty new chip protector, too.